


Stained Skin

by shuckfaceparadise (isaacfignewton)



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: (sort of), Cunnilingus, F/F, Somnophilia, Writing on Skin, basically they're both cis girls but cis swap isn't coming up and i hate 'genderbend' so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:31:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2145714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaacfignewton/pseuds/shuckfaceparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The next time she woke, Minho was writing in circles around her left nipple, staying far enough away that it didn’t hurt, but close enough that it stung more than her shoulder had. The pain thrummed through her body and she shifted, moaning softly as she felt herself getting wet between her legs. She tried to arch into the pressure but Minho’s other hand skated over her shoulder, settling on a clean patch over her collarbone and pressing her back down against the bed.</p>
<p>“I’ve just gotta finish this thought, okay?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stained Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambitioncutsusdown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambitioncutsusdown/gifts).



> well, kat. i had a birthday present planned for you but it's only half done. but you said you wanted femslash and... well. i wrote this forever ago and i'm like 87% sure you'll like it?? SO HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! ilu

It was 3am when Newt woke to the sounds of ruffling paper and quiet, muffled swearing.

She was curled up on one side of the bed, facing the wall, arms wrapped around herself with her knees drawn up to her chest so she made a small ball. For a moment she was confused, wondering where the person she usually wrapped herself around like an octopus was, then the sounds returned, accompanied by the loud screeching sound of their desk drawer being slid shut.

In an instant, Minho cast a guilty glance over at the bed, and Newt stretched herself out, joints cracking, and rolled over to look at her girlfriend.

“Having fun?” she asked, trying to raise an eyebrow but almost too tired to even do that. She huffed and tried to pull herself up, succeeding only in getting to her elbows before she collapsed again, burrowing sleepily into the covers. She made a content sound, a little sleepy whimper and she could practically feel Minho’s eyes on her. Trying to be stealthy, she spread her legs, inviting Minho over.

Then she remembered why she woke and raised her head to squint across the room. The other girl still gave her a deer-in-headlights look. “What do you need?”

“I’m, uh, out of paper. Do you know if we have any?” Minho asked, giving a hesitant smile and gesturing around their small apartment. Newt frowned as she thought, thinking back to the last time they’d gone shopping. It must have been at least a week ago, both of them busy with classes and Minho scheduling all her extra time to personal train for people at the gym. Finally, Newt remembered the run they’d made to the office store just days ago, picking up more printer paper for her essay.

“Did you already go through our printer paper?” she asked, then shook her head at Minho’s stricken expression. “Well, um–”

She cut herself off with a loud yawn and fell back on the bed with the wave of tiredness. Still shaking her head, she went to snuggle back in but instead she grew too hot and pushed off the comforter, groaning.

“Newt, I just need to get out this one idea. I don’t even need to save it I just want to have written it…” Minho trailed off, pencil still in hand as she reached up to her short hair, twisting it around her fingers and tugging at it anxiously. Newt made another groaning sound, pulling the pillow around her face to block out the light.

“Write on me! I don’t care, Minho. Just let me go back to sleep, yeah?” Newt said, muffled through the pillow. There was silence for several moments before Newt peeked out and found Minho staring at her, eyes wide and hands stretched out. Her fingers wiggled like she was excited.

“Really? I could write on you?” Minho asked, picking a pen off of the desk and twisting it around her fingers. Newt could see a telltale tremble in her lip that meant the answer meant a lot. Biting her lip in a confused expression, Newt nodded, kicking the last of the covers off and spreading herself out before settling back into the bed, closing her eyes so she could go back to sleep.

In an instant, Minho moved forwards, kneeling on the bed and running her hands almost reverently over Newt’s shoulders, down her chest and stomach until the edge of her pajama shirt, then pulling it over her head. Newt felt too tired to be self-conscious, but she made a noise as her nipples peaked in the cold air. Minho smiled distractedly, rubbing her thumbs over them again before slipping under Newt’s waistband. Her pajama pants and underwear were gone all at once, leaving her naked and shivering ever so slightly in the cold of their cheap off-campus apartment.

After a moment of consideration, Minho sat down next to her, pulling the blankets back up to her chest. Newt made a confused sound, then felt Minho pull her arm over to her, turning it around the find the best patch to write over.

Newt fell asleep before the pen hit her skin, but she woke some time later when the pen skated over shoulder. Instinctively, she turned her head away and felt Minho’s lips press against her neck a moment later. She made a contented sound, trying not to shift around and letting herself slip back into sleep.

Before she fell back in, she felt the press of the pen against her shoulder again. It sent sparks through her, the almost stinging pressure Minho put on it, leaving a trail of pleasant pain behind the mark. And following the pen’s pressure was Minho’s touch, reassuringly running after it and catching on her skin comfortably, tantalizing in its roughness.

She fell back asleep before the feeling could spread any deeper. The next time she woke, Minho was writing in circles around her left nipple, staying far enough away that it didn’t hurt, but close enough that it stung more than her shoulder had. The pain thrummed through her body and she shifted, moaning softly as she felt herself getting wet between her legs. She tried to arch into the pressure but Minho’s other hand skated over her shoulder, settling on a clean patch over her collarbone and pressing her back down against the bed.

“I’ve just gotta finish this thought, okay?” she said, voice low and almost rough as she ran her hands down Newt’s chest. Newt could feel the pen start to write across her stomach, Minho’s hand rubbing reassuringly across her unmarked breast and sending her back to sleep despite the flicks across her nipple that made her skin dance.

Newt felt well-rested the next time she woke, as if she’d been asleep for the entire night and, when she turned to glance out the window, she saw that there was indeed a sun rising. The clock on her other side read 5am and she went to go back to sleep until her 7am alarm when she realized she didn’t know where Minho was. In time with the realization, she felt the tiny pressure as a pen wrote over the calluses on her feet.

She glanced down at Minho where she was at the foot of the bed, kneeling on the ground so she could reach Newt’s feet easier. Newt’s eyes immediately strayed, taking in the writing all over her body, in long, meandering lines and shaping tight boxes and circling around her nipples and her bellybutton. She saw names of characters from Minho’s head and her own name, she saw things that looked like journal entries, date scribbled across her skin. She saw a tight ring of just the word ‘beautiful,’ surrounding a mole she often complained about.

“Shuck, Minho. Is there anywhere you missed?” she asked, voice breaking in the cool morning air.

Minho started, glancing up from where it felt like she was doodling spirals. Then she smiled, crawling onto the bed and stalking over Newt. Newt’s mouth watered with the way Minho moved, lithe and graceful. She nudged Newt’s legs apart and sat between them, leaning back on her feet, then trailed her fingers up the insides of Newt’s thighs. She huffed a laugh when Newt scooted away, moving up until her back rested against the headboard. She only crawled closer, hands moving in slow lines.

“I didn’t get here,” she said, hands still running over the insides of Newt’s thighs, dancing over the bare skin. Her voice was silky smooth and not quite tired, but something on the edge of it. It was something without reservations, without fear or the normal slight whisper of anxiety that Newt always heard in her girlfriend’s voice.

Just the thought of Minho so comfortable had Newt glowing, smiling wide and sleepily and spreading her legs further. She reached her arms out, trying to catch Minho’s face in her hands and eventually succeeding, but only when Minho moved her face into them.

It felt like slow motion, kissing so contentedly as a sun rose in the background. _A fucking fairy tale,_ Newt thought, humming into the kiss. Minho’s hands continued to trace up and down the edge of her body, slowly becoming harder drags of skin against skin that had Newt moaning softly.

The first groan came when Minho pushed forwards, laying herself against Newt and pressing her thigh between Newt’s legs. Instantly the kiss grew heavier, tongues pushing further and nips getting harder and moans growing louder. Minho smiled into the kiss as Newt started to grind against her thigh, rubbing her clit against it over and over again and leaving a wet patch over the skin.

At some point in the night Minho had gotten naked as well, and she took advantage, moving them in a rhythm that had them both gasping at the contact. The ink on Newt’s skin smeared as Minho’s wetness started to coat it and Minho had a thought to hope the ink wouldn’t stain her, but knew it was probably too late if she was going to worry. She could already see the black smears over the insides of her thighs, and knew if she were the spread herself and look she’d find darkness their too.

But now wasn’t the time to think these things thorough, too overcome with the physical sensations and the deep, emotional contentment of marking Newt so clearly as hers. She grinned again, hands tracing all of her words and then wrapping around Newt’s upper arms, holding herself steady as she started to move them quicker, harder. Newt was hers, she thought, whimpering as her thrusts became faster.

It wasn’t long before Newt’s moans grew higher-pitched, desperate, her hands falling from Minho’s hair to her shoulders, nails gripping tight and imprinting her with small crescents. Minho made small grunts, each rock of their hips sending shockwaves through her. She could feel herself tipping over the edge, but Newt wasn’t quite there yet and she waited, pulling herself back but not able to stop moving. There was something better about coming apart together, something that made them closer, made Minho feel warm in her chest and all the way down to her toes.

She could make her Newt fall apart.

It felt like forever had passed when Newt finally let out a choked whimper, thighs that Minho rubbed herself against starting to shake, tensing and releasing over and over again, and hands falling loose and limp at her sides only to grip the bed sheet, twisting it around her hands. She bucked harder, faster, meeting Minho’s movements and riding out the orgasm shaking through her. Minho smiled, feeling sparks up her spine and finally letting herself go over the edge.

They moaned in the same moment, long, drawn-out sounds that could probably be heard by the apartments around them but neither had the presence of mind to care, too caught up in each other and the way the other moved. They were set on pulling the last whimpers out of each other before they collapsed together, out of breath and shaking with aftershocks.

Newt had barely caught her breath when she felt a different pressure between her legs, Minho’s fingers dancing down playfully and then rubbing her in just the right spot, thumb moving in a tight circle over her clit and making her eyes flicker closed at the feeling. At first she flinched back, over-stimulated and tired, but in almost the same movement she bucked forwards, feeling the pressure get harder before it was taken away again. She felt Minho’s presence move away and whimpered, reaching out to catch her back.

“Minho, please,” she whispered, eyes opening again to find where her girlfriend had gone and then letting out another whimper when she saw that Minho had moved away, yes, but had brought her face down to where she could smell how aroused Newt was, almost taste it in the air. In the next moment Newt felt her breath over her clit, warm and promising.

The apartments around them were definitely bothered by now, Newt thought, but then she let out a loud moan, neighbors forgotten. Minho’s mouth had closed over her clit, sucking harder than Newt expected and tongue flicking every few moments, a wet drag that made Newt’s eyes roll. She wanted to scream, swear, do _something_ , but she forced herself to bite down on her lip, only letting out a muffled whimper.

She could feel the smile in Minho’s mouth as she started to lick more, releasing the suction in favor of long, slow licks that started low, and dragged up past and over her clit, dancing along the line where her hair grew the thickest. She bucked again, hands reaching out but not knowing where to grab.

Minho pulled off her with a pop, face bright with a smile. “You like that?” she asked, impish grin knowing the answer. Newt only made a huffing noise. Minho rolled her eyes, removing her hands briefly from where they gripped Newt’s inner thighs and grabbing her hands, bringing them to her head. Hesitantly, Newt tightened her fingers, giving Minho’s hair an experimental tug. It prompted a whimper, and Newt smiled.

“You like that?” she parroted, winking. Then her smile fell away as the licks started again.

They fell into a rhythm, Minho’s mouth on Newt and every time a particularly strong spark went through her skin she tugged Minho’s hair and she would lick harder, faster, loud wet sounds that might have been gross in other situations but now sounded obscene.

Minho kept pressing Newt’s legs further apart so she could get closer, but when she decided she was close enough, her tongue fucking deep enough— she let go. Newt’s thighs snapped together, holding her head between them and Newt’s fingers tightened in her hair. She moaned, loud and long and felt it vibrate through the wet heat her face was buried in.

Her hands had slid around so that her arms were under Newt’s legs, so she could hold her hips, pull her closer. Now, her hand wandered down, finding Newt’s clit and rubbing it hard. The angle was awkward and the contact broke as Newt started bucking more, feeling her orgasm stirring on the edges, but Minho quickly learned how to move with it, keeping firm, constant pressure on Newt’s clit as her tongue pressed in over and over again.

Minho could feel Newt’s orgasm as it started, thighs starting to twitch and hands in her hair tightening to an almost painful point, and she kept going, steady licks and rubbing until Newt gasped above her, shaking, eyes watering as she almost screamed. It felt like it lasted forever, brain racing to try to process the feelings, body shaking as it tried to come down. Newt could feel her heart racing, jumping as little sparks went through her.

Minho still licked her, little kitten licks with her soft tongue, helping coax her body down from the high. Eventually, even that was too much and Newt whimpered.

“Kiss me, please,” she said, hands no long wrapped in Minho’s hair but threaded through it, urging Minho’s head higher. She complied, kissing up Newt’s stomach and chest, pausing to kiss and lick hickeys onto Newt’s neck, but finally reaching her lips. They kissed the same way as before, mouths moving slowly together.

When Minho broke the kiss she smiled, but then, almost in the same moment, her eyelids drooped, lack of sleep catching up to her. She gave a sleepy smile, all but collapsing onto Newt, head resting on her bare chest and arms wrapping around her. She fell asleep within seconds, face still wet from where she licked so enthusiastically and with the taste of her girlfriend still in her mouth. On the inside of her thighs, streaming from between her legs, were black stains, imprinted lines and smears of the ink decorating her. And Newt was still covered in Minho’s drawings, her writing twisting around over inch of Newt’s skin.

_Absolute fucking fairy tale,_ Newt thought, the last thing before she dropped back into sleep.


End file.
